Croire
by ViridianNight
Summary: Enjolras doesn't "hate" the new agent. He just has a deep suspicion of him and his unruly hair and annoying smile. He acts strange and knows way too much about the enemy to be normal (or maybe it's just because he's really cute and— shit.) Enjolras isn't in love with Grantaire, dammit. (But he really is so if he turns out to be a spy, Enjolras' heart is going to break in half.)


**RedAmbitions on AO3 and Tumblr for quicker updates and probably quicker replies (but I love all you lovely readers too! :3 I jsut check those more often.)**

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Enjolras stands at the small breakfast bar precariously holding a plate of eggs, a piece of toast and two mugs brimming with coffee. It had been a good day so far. Courfeyrac brought in his cat (which snuggled up against Enjolras' leg and even he has to admit that it is adorable). Jehan has baked Enjolras' favorite kind of muffin (cranberry and cinnamon but only when Jehan makes it because really nothing matches up to Jehan's cooking). Combeferre had finished his and Enjolras' report early and Agent Lamarque had actually come up to personally compliment Enjolras' presentation from earlier that week. No matter what witnesses have said, Enjolras definitely did not smile gleefully and stutter like some star struck teenager. That's not how Enjolras acts, especially not around his role model, so whoever says that he did should be discharged and kept in guarded isolation immediately.

"Excuse me," Feuilly says, reaching across Enjolras to grab a muffin. Enjolras moves aside to let Feuilly fill a mug of coffee. (And no, Enjolras' immediate reaction internally is not "Oh my gosh, it's the legendary Feuilly!" Only silly, obsessed people do that, not Enjolras.) "Congrats on the presentation, by the way. It was great," Feuilly says, walking towards a table with Enjolras.

"Oh yes. Thank you. It took quite a long time, but I'm pretty satisfied with the final result," Enjolras replies, taking a sip of the scalding hot coffee to keep his hand from shaking excitedly.

"You should be. How did you get all that information? I'm sure the library doesn't have that much specific info," Feuilly asks, looking at Enjolras with genuine interest.

"Combeferre's laptop," Enjolras says. "You wouldn't believe how much information he has on there. Bossuet better have put good security on it."

Feuilly chuckles, brushing a strand of his auburn hair out of his eyes. "I can believe it. 'Ferre's gonna have field day with the new guy."

Enjolras almost spits out his eggs (in front of Feuilly! Goddamn it.). "What? There's a new guy?" Why hadn't he been informed of this? He is a top agent. Why wasn't he consulted beforehand? Of course, he sometimes angered the bosses by not following orders or killing a few more politically corrupt accomplices than necessary but he is essential to this entire operation running properly!

"You haven't met him yet?" Feuilly asks. "Bossuet and Courfeyrac know him, I think. The higher ups interviewed him for almost twice the regular time and they had an intense background check done on him. I wasn't called in though," he says with a hint of disappointment.

"Why?" Enjolras asks. "Aren't you usually brought in for new agents' interviews?"

"It was mostly classified info that they were discussing. He knows a lot about the Jondrette gang, a lot more than any regular person would. He seemed suspicious but I guess he passed the test. His knowledge will be useful."

Enjolras nods, still just a little hurt at his lack of involvement with such an important event. "Yes, I'm sure it will be. But are we sure that he's completely clean?"

Feuilly shrugs. "I talked to him earlier. I think he's alright, but that's just what I thought from talking to him. If he got past all the interrogation then he shouldn't be too bad. Do you remember your interview?"

"Of course. It isn't something you easily forget," Enjolras says. The interviews, which are really more like interrogations, can last for nearly twelve hours and the questions asked are difficult and designed to find double agents and potential traitors. Getting in is so secretive anyway that most people who are interviewed pass, but the occasional spy shows up and is caught immediately. Besides, not a lot of people who walk into the Musain Law Firm even know how to get past Cosette, the fake receptionist for the fake law firm which is actually a front for ABC. Marius barely got past Cosette on her first day, and only started walking again after five minutes of gaping at the confused girl.

"You should go talk to him," Feuilly urges. "You might end up working with him in the future."

"He's a new agent! He won't be assigned to the same team as me when he's just joined," Enjolras says angrily.

"He was automatically given a high ranking."

"What?!" Enjolras slams his hand on the tabletop. "But he's new! And highly suspicious. We've all worked for years to get to where we are."

"Who knows how the brains of the bosses work," Feuilly says, draining the last of his coffee. "I have to go but it was nice talking with you." He pushes his chair back with a loud scrape and slowly gets up.

"Yes. Sorry for keeping you," Enjolras says, standing up also, his clenched fist slowly loosening.

"Oh it wasn't a problem," Feuilly says with a smile. "I always like talking to you. I'll see you around." He leaves with a small wave in Enjolras' direction and Enjolras can barely keep himself from squealing in glee. Feuilly likes talking with him! And then he remembers that he is a twenty-two year old, professional agent and assassin so he wipes the grin off of his face and head over to the lounge where the rest of his friends probably are.

As he expected, Enjolras finds half of his group of friends sitting around in the public lounge. Combeferre is the only one actually doing anything. He is sitting at the big table next to the bookshelves (which are so tall that only Combeferre can reach the top), typing away on his laptop, surrounded by a few notebooks and pens. Even after finishing a big presentation, Combeferre is already working on another research project. Bahorel and Jehan are playing some sort of first person shooter (which looks like one of their easier missions) on the gaming console petitioned for by Courfeyrac and Bahorel. Jehan is definitely beating Bahorel while wondering about the idea of death as presented in the game. Joly is sitting with Bossuet on the dark green loveseat, back against the taller man's chest and resting a big fantasy novel on his knees. Musichetta is still on her undercover mission and Bossuet and Joly have been talking about her every wonderful aspect for days. Joly even almost got his cell phone taken away and disabled for trying to call her.

"Where's Courfeyrac?" Enjolras asks, pulling out the swivel chair next to Combeferre

Combeferre glances up at him. "I'm not sure. I think he mentioned something about the new agent." Combeferre pushes his glasses up and looks back at Enjolras with his eyes shining. "Have you met him yet? He is a mine of information on the Jondrette gang. Of course, most of it is classified so he isn't even allowed to tell me." Combeferre has an expression on his face that is close to annoyance but still not really. Even though Enjolras is Combeferre's closest friend, he could count the times that he's seen Combeferre cry or get really angry on one hand. The times that Combeferre had become furious though, he was absolutely terrifying."

"That's terrible," Enjolras agrees. "And I haven't met him yet. I would like to. I was talking to Feuilly about him earlier," he says, barely containing a smile from spreading across his face.

Combeferre's raises his eyebrows. "Talking with Feuilly, huh?"

Enjolras feels a smile tugging at his lips but manages to contain his giddiness. "Yes I was. I was just wondering why he would be assigned such a high status when he seems so suspicious. He could be a double agent. Why else would he have that much information on a secret mafia? We don't even have that much information on them! On official file anyway."

Combeferre shrugs and turns back to his computer. "If he was a double agent, why would he have told them all the information he knows?"

"To make them trust him," Enjolras argues. "For all we know, he could be lying."

"If you want to think that," Combeferre says, but Enjolras can tell that he doesn't think the same.

There is a commotion near the door and Enjolras looks up to see Courfeyrac running towards him with a man trailing behind him somewhat reluctantly.

"Enjolras! I was looking for you," Courfeyrac yells, almost crashing into the table but managing to stop with a squeak from his patterned Vans. His green beanie is barely clinging to his chestnut hair. "You haven't met the new guy yet, have you? Well, this is Grantaire, and this is Enjolras, the guy I was telling you about."

Enjolras shifts his gaze to the other man, Grantaire, who is staring at him with pretty blue-flecked gray eyes and his mouth slightly open. He shakes his head just a little, which causes his dark hair to become even more perfectly messy, and extends a calloused and tattooed hand. Fuck, Enjolras isn't supposed to be attracted to swirling tattoos. Or ripped up, paint stained jeans. Or a week's worth of scruff on some new guy's jaw. Fuck the world. What is even happening right now?

"Grantaire, or you can call me R. Nice to meet you," he says with a very annoying grin. There's a chip in his front tooth and a bit of orange paint on his upper lip.

Enjolras looks at him, trying to keep a glare out of his eyes but it probably didn't work because glares always like to creep into his eyes. "Enjolras," he says, shaking Grantaire's hand. "I've already heard a lot about you."

"Oh?" he says, tilting his head. "Is that a good thing?" His hand is still loosely grasping Enjolras'.

Enjolras pulls his hand away and lets it drop to his side. "I don't know. I'll have to see whether or not the things I've heard are true."

"Right back at you," he responds. "I've heard a lot about you too, O' marble lover of liberty," he finishes with a smirk.

Enjolras whips his glare over to Courfeyrac. "Is that what you're calling me now?"

Courfeyrac backs away, his hands up. "Hey, don't be mad now. It's not like it's false or an insult. In fact, it's a compliment! Uh, kinda I guess. It's not a bad thing!"

"So what are you then? The conceited lover of pretty girls?"

"And boys and everything in between~!" Courfeyrac sings in a sing song voice. "Never thought you would be one to forget that, Enjolras. Gosh, forgetting the minorities! Tsk, tsk."

Grantaire raises his hand with fake excitement. "Ooh, ooh! Can I be the hungover lover of alcohol?"

"There's a classy title!" Courfeyrac says, slinging his arm around Grantaire's shoulders. "C'mon. Let's go get a beer and some donuts from the kitchen."

"They've got free beer and sugary fried dough here?"

"Well, Bahorel brings it and it's not like the bosses check the refrigerator on a regular basis so yes, there is free beer and the bosses steal the donuts and they think we don't notice! What kind of idiots do they take us to be? But anyway, yeah, we usually have food and booze."

"Fuck yes. I'm liking this place more and more," Grantaire says, looking back at Enjolras, catching his eye and raising his perfect lips in another smile. Enjolras feels a flush growing on his face and quickly looks away. Damn it, Enjolras isn't supposed to be attracted to cute smiles either.

The two of them leave and Enjolras sits back down, crossing his arms and facing Combeferre.

"You like him," Combeferre says nonchalantly, not even looking up from his research.

"What?!" Enjolras sputters out, lunging forward and almost rising out of his seat. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," he says, regaining his composure and lowering himself down. "I've only just met him and he is fucking suspicious and is probably a goddamn spy and why does no one else see it?!" he finishes, anger once again rising into his voice. Jehan looks over at him and giggles, leaning over to write something down in his notebook.

Combeferre sighs and smiles at his best friend. "Good god, you're infatuated with him."

"No I'm not!" Enjolras yells, standing up angrily, causing everyone in the room to turn and stare at him. Enjolras notices and blushes deeply, sitting back down. "I don't believe in love at first sight. It's a stupid-ass idea. I definitely don't like him."

"Don't believe in love at first sight?" Combeferre asks. "Have you _seen_ Marius lately?"

"Are you really comparing me to him?" Enjolras groans, rolling his eyes.

"Well, he's the only person I know besides you now who sees a person and is absolutely _smitten_ with them. Well, Grantaire too, I suppose."

"H-Huh?" Enjolras stammers, a blush rising on his cheeks. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."


End file.
